


Last Dance

by neunundneunzig



Series: The Autonecrophilac Collection [5]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Will Graham, Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Guilt, M/M, Necrophilia, Rape/Non-con Elements, Season/Series 03, autonecrophila
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-05 23:50:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18376616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neunundneunzig/pseuds/neunundneunzig
Summary: Set in late season 3, Will grapples with his feelings about Hannibal and what they've done.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alright I've had this one in the back of my head for a while. Excepts from the script and from Red Dragon used and edited here. Chapter 2 has some very nasty stuff. I'd recommend reading the other works from this first probably.
> 
> I'd recommend reading the tags definitely.

“Hello Doctor Lecter.”

“Hello Will.” Hannibal’s lips curled into a smile. Will couldn’t make himself meet the man’s eyes. “Did you read my note? Or did you immediately toss it in the nearest fire?”

“I didn’t read it.” Will looked to the corner of Hannibal’s plain cell. 

“Yet you came anyways. I’m very glad to see you. My usual visitors are far less interesting. Banal psychiatrists and grasping second raters, trying desperately to protect their tenure.” He moved closer to the barrier, examining Will.

“I want you to help me, Doctor Lecter.” Will said dryly.

“Yes, I thought so. Are we no longer on a first name basis?”

“I’m more comfortable the less personal we are.”

“Oh Will.” Hannibal smiled warmly, “A title change won’t undo our history. Are you really that bitter about what we’ve done together?”

“What you did to me.” Will snapped.

Hannibal shook his head, “You don’t see yourself as my victim. We both know that’s not the truth. But I know how skilled you are about hiding your truths.” He took a soft inhale through the holes in the glass, “That shaving lotion. It’s something a child would pick out. Is there a child in your life, Will?”

Will kept his walls up, “I’m not here about that. I’m here about Chicago and Buffalo. I’m sure you’ve heard.”

“I’ve read the papers.” Hannibal hummed, playing bored on the topic, “The mirrors are a fascinating touch. Would you ever consider something similar?”

Will’s facade broke for a minute, and Hannibal saw beautiful, beautiful rage in his eyes. He took in a sharp breath and looked at Hannibal, dropping his voice, “Enough.”

Hannibal looked up towards the camera in the room and gave Will a little nod, “Don’t worry. I don’t find you worth discussing with Doctor Bloom.”

Will bit the inside of his lip, “I have the case files.”

“May I see them?”

Will pushed them through the document tray, watching his fingers as he did, not seeing Hannibal above trying to yank it shut and snap one off. The thought isn’t one he should fantasize about for too long.

* * *

“It’s good to see you looking so well, Will, but I can’t help but wish you weren’t here.” Alana set down a cup of coffee in front of him. He hadn’t taken it with sugar in a few years, but he found her consideration kind. 

“You’re not the only one.”

“How did it feel to see him again?”

Will looks at his cup for a long moment, “Like I can’t pretend this is over anymore. I had the absurd feeling that he walked out with me. Had to stop outside the doors and look around, make sure I was alone.”

She leaned forward somewhat, as if she was trying to give the illusion of sharing a secret in the locked office. “I know there’s parts of your relationship with Hannibal that weren’t discussed in the courtroom. And I have the suspicion that there’s more that he hasn’t shared with me.”

Will tried to not go too stiff. He sipped the drink, “That won’t have an effect on the case. Are you still with Margot?”

“Yes. We have a baby. A son.”

“Good for Margot.” Will gave a little smile, remembering their awkward shared time together.

“Good for me. I carried him. He's my son. He's the Verger heir.”

“Well, you look nice,” He managed, then sighed, “What are you doing here?”

Alana turned her computer screen, showing Hannibal sitting in his cell, reading over the files, fingers stroking over the full-color pictures, “There are only five doors between Hannibal and the outside. And I have the keys to every one of them.”

“And you feel like that’s enough to keep you safe?”

“No.” Alana looked at him, “I doubt it’s enough to keep you safe either.”

“I’m not letting him in again, Alana. Don’t worry about me.”

“Last time it didn’t end with you.” Alana pursed her lips.

* * *

"Well, I had a run-in with Mrs. Holper today. She wanted to return a dress with a huge big whiskey stain on the seat. I mean, obviously she had worn it to the Jaycee Thing."

"And what did you say?" Will laid on the cheap hotel bed, eyeing his copy of the case files. Speaking to Molly right now made him feel almost normal. That was followed quickly by feeling like a fraud.

"I told her I didn't sell it to her like that."

"And what did she say?"

"She said she never had any trouble returning dresses before, which was one reason she shopped at my place rather than some others that she knew about."

"And then what did you say?"

"Oh, I said I was upset because Will talks like a jackass on the phone."

"I see." Will smiled gently. Molly loved him. He wasn’t fake or broken because of the past. 

"Willy's fine. He's covering some turtle eggs the dogs dug up. Tell me what you're doing."

"Reading reports. Eating junk food.” He flipped the report open, looking at the faces of the victims, the broken glass on them.

"Thinking a good bit, I expect."

"Yep." He felt something nasty stirring in him. He remember how he used to look at cases, and how, with Hannibal’s guidance, it became something worse and worse.

"Can I help you?"

"I just don't have a lock on anything, Molly. There's not enough information. Well, there's a lot of information, but I haven't done enough with it."

"Will you be out in the field for a while? I'm not bugging you about coming home, I just wonder." 

"I don't know. I'll be here a few more days at least. I miss you."

Molly paused for a bit, and Will heard a door shut. "Want to talk about fucking?"

"I think maybe we better not do that." Will felt his cock twitch. 

"Do what?"

"Talk about fucking." 

Molly laughed and chatted on to him. Will couldn’t make himself close the file. He tried to focus as she talked about Willy’s adventures on their property, and the latest stray that has come around. 

“Okay, I need sleep. Look, I love you and I miss you and you're doing the right thing. It's costing you too, I know that. I'm here and I'll be here whenever you come home."

"Dear Molly,” Will smiled softly, “Go to bed now."

"All right."

"Good night." 

Will kept his eyes shut tight as he touched himself later, but couldn’t help but see the corpses, see Hannibal forcing a mirror between his teeth. He cleaned the mess and drank himself to sleep.

* * *

“This is a very shy boy, Will. I'd love to meet him.”

“I'm sure you would.”

“Have you considered the possibility that he's disfigured? Or that he may see himself as disfigured?

“That's interesting.” Will remarked, suddenly paranoid Hannibal knew his slip up last night, his fall back into habits he’d buried.

“That's not interesting. You thought of that before.”

“He smashed all the mirrors in the houses, not just enough to get the pieces he wanted. The shards are set so he can see himself in their eyes; Mrs. Jacobi and Mrs. Leeds, and their families.” 

Hannibal pulled a picture of Mrs. Jacobi from the file. Will’s throat felt closed with guilt. “Could you see yourself in their eyes, Will? Killing them all? Or did you see yourself as them? I’m sure this case-”

Hannibal watched the war behind Will’s eyes and knew. He was victim and aggressor yet again. When Will found himself too close to the killer, he wanted to be the victim even more. He was already in Hannibal’s arms again despite the walls that separated them for the time being. 

“The first bond to the killer must itch and sting like a leech. Especially after you played so wounded during the trial. A return to your true nature.”

* * *

Will didn’t sleep, but he loathed lying awake. In his dreams, he saw Molly dead, Mrs. Jacobi and Mrs. Leeds lying beside him in bed, Molly screaming as he brutalized her, outside of his own control, a voyeur in the vessel of the dragon.

Awake, he at least could avoid thoughts of harming someone he loved, someone who was innocent, far more innocent than Will. 

He stared at the ceiling and tried to not think about the museum. Dolarhyde threw him around _effortlessly_. He could pin him down, rip into his still flesh with those awful teeth and it would tear just like paper. Will deserved that. Especially for how he felt about the thoughts that followed. Could his body take the power of the Dragon? The mirrors wouldn’t be necessary, Will could see the Dragon, and the Dragon would see himself in Will.

* * *

“He told me about you.” Bedelia hummed. He knew she took joy in making him jealous, “About your… proclivities. Even once convinced me to-”

“He convinced me too.” Will snapped, “Manipulated me. Made me do things I wouldn’t normally have dreamed of.”

“I find it hard to believe your dreams are normal. In fact, I’m certain they’re not. How many hours did you sleep last night?”

“...Forty-five minutes.”

“Will.” She said in a tone very psychiatric of her.

“In my dreams I’m… him. I can’t stop seeing myself kill her over and over.”

“Who?”

“Molly. Mrs. Leeds, Mrs. Jacobi, Abigail, Georgia Madchen, Alana, _you._ ”

“Sexual violence isn’t new to you. Is this case more personal?”

“Hannibal is… a flood in a cheap cemetery. He dredges up everything you want to stay buried.”

“Does your metaphor arouse you?” 

Will glared.

“You know, studies have shown necrophilia is far more common than most presume. Many even work in fields that let them get closer to the bodies, such as mortuary sciences or…. Criminal sciences.”

“I’m not a necrophiliac.” Will grit his teeth.

“Aren’t you?”

“I wouldn’t… it’s more complicated than that.” He shook his head and stood, “I should be leaving.”

“Neither is Hannibal. He loved you.”

“He loved what he could make me do for him.” 

“We both know you’re not giving him enough credit.” She sighed and walked him to the door, “Will you go back to your family, to your quiet life after this? Can you?”

* * *

“Going my way?” Hannibal gave a sly smile. Will didn’t think twice.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! Read the tags. Includes rape, necrophilia, and Francis/Will.

Hannibal reemerged in a button up and slacks. Will can tell he’s glad to be in his own clothing again, an extra spring in his step as he pours them wine. He sat beside Will and set the glasses down, running his knuckles across Will’s back, “Did I make you come with me? Are you still bitter about _what I did to you_?”

Will drank the wine, “No. No, I’m… in control.”

“You always were.”

“That’s not true.”

“Not in general, no. But as I recall, I had to be the one to end it. You wouldn’t have even turned me in.”

“I didn’t consider what I was doing.”

“Who you were becoming. Do you understand now?”

Will looked at Hannibal, and as he opened his mouth to answer, the wine glass exploded, bursting purple onto Hannibal’s pristine shirt. Will struggled to understand what happened, and in his delay, the Dragon steps through the shattered window. Hannibal fell to his knees, blood pumping out of the wound. Will felt powerful. 

“Don’t run, I’ll catch you.” The Dragon looked at Will, and Will saw his glory.

“Hello Francis.” Hannibal said from the floor.

“Hello Doctor Lecter.”

Will couldn’t hear their chatter, and only took the camera after Dolarhyde shoved it at him, pointing the gun. 

“I’m going to film your death, Doctor Lecter. In death, you will meld with the strength of the dragon.”

Will looked at Hannibal. Hannibal looked at Will’s erection. Will reached for his gun, then heard a sharp ringing, his eyes blurring out. Then he registered the pain. He was fighting back as best he could, instincts working automatically. He felt the knife drive between two of his teeth, and felt blood pour as he tried to emit a noise. He punched Francis in the gut before he felt himself flung into broken glass by the man’s strong arms. 

He tried to stand, seeing Hannibal fight, blood dying his shirt as he exerted himself more and more. His body crashed by Will’s and laid still. 

“No, No, Hannibal.” Will tried to drag himself over.

“That’s enough, Will. I hope to keep you alive.” the Dragon stepped on Will’s leg, “Doctor Lecter told me about you. How perfect you are for me. Why did you take so long, trap and trick and betray me?”

Will’s thoughts swam. He shook his head. He felt his pants being ripped down and went still. Two fingers entered him, rough and dry, making him sputter and tense up. Blood flecked from his mouth. They twisted and spread clumsily inside him. 

“Don’t confuse this for… repressed homosexuality. And I am more than sexually capable. This is to see, and to be seen, as the glorious power I hold.”

He flipped Will around roughly and entered him. Will felt himself tearing, heard himself making noises of pain and almost pleasure. This wasn’t right. It wasn’t supposed to be Francis, not ever. Francis grabbed his jaw and looked in his eyes and he fucked, rough and unsteady, “Do you see me, Will Graham?” he snarled.

Will felt a calm certainty wash over him. He tried to look where Hannibal last laid, but was swiftly hit for it. His vision swirled.

“If you refuse to see the power I am so graciously showing you,” He slammed in harder. “Then you will feel the wrath.”

He wrapped his arms around Will. Will was confused, at first by the embrace, but the closeness pushed Francis into him deeper. Then he felt the pressure as the Dragon found his spine. Will heard himself moan as his collarbone was used for leverage to break his back. 

Then nothing. He found himself empty and unbroken. He looked up to see Hannibal trying to twist Dolarhyde’s neck, the man stumbling to throw him off. Will scrambled up as Hannibal fought, finding a large shard of glass and advancing towards the Dragon. 

He threw Hannibal off and while turned, Will plunged the knife deep into his back. It didn’t seem to have more effect than a bee sting as the Dragon turned to him again. He buckled as Hannibal sliced at his tendon with a rusted hatchet, but did not stop. Will scrambled back and grabbed a knife of the ground. Hannibal leapt on the Dragon’s back again. Will drove the knife into the Dragon’s chest and pulled it down, showed in his blood. 

He kicks Will hard, sending him to the ground again, but quickly collapsed, innards spilling and Hannibal released him. 

Hannibal moved to Will’s side, “Will, I am terribly-”

Will met his eyes, and something behind them made him actually hold his tongue.

Will floated past him to the body, then fell on top of it, hands starting to explore the gaping wound he made, the arcs of the liver and ropes of his intestines. He shuddered and gasped, “This… is it Hannibal…”

Hannibal watched as Will began grinding himself on the corpse, “This is… my design, my becoming… this…”

Will forced the Dragon’s priapism into himself, rocking painfully on it. He grabbed for a moment at the shards of glass, letting them cut into his fingers, before abandoning them and pressing the side of his face to Dolarhyde’s chest, gazing at Hannibal. Hannibal stared for a long moment before giving him a smile. 

Will’s orgasm is weak, the blood loss and the pain start to sharpen as the adrenaline fades. The noises he made were weak pants and gasps. They whistled breathily from the hole in his face. He shuddered against the body, then removed himself and straighten back up.

He looked at Hannibal, almost sheepish, unsure of what to say. His eyes dropped to the blood of all of them, mixing indistinguishably. He smiled and muttered “It really does look black in the moonlight.”

Hannibal limped over to him and embraced him. He pressed their lips together gently, stroking Will’s unharmed cheekbone with his thumb. He pulled away and pressed their foreheads together, “This is more than I could have ever wanted for you, Will. I love you.”

“It’s so beautiful.” A tear cut through the book on Will’s cheek before he grabbed the other man and pulled them into the crashing ocean below.


End file.
